Past Diatribes

In fairness: I have added several new articles to the guide. There's recommendations on Colin Bateman and other contemporary Irish authors and (all important, this year) instructions on how US citizens living abroad can register for an absentee ballot. I have not been a lazy bastard.

Complete maggot, yes. Lazy bastard? No.

Movie trailer version of Mick's last six months:

Merry pub scenes, with Guinness-drinking friends and blazing fire. Joyful airport reunion scenes, parents visiting with gifts from America. Mick passing his first MCSE exam. Beautiful redhead cooking her hub a nice meal.

Enter the villain: ghostly white with glowing eyes and pointy fangs. Gaunt from an unending hunger. Voice over by Jenni O'Loughlin: The Hellmouth has reopened in Dublin, and begun spewing cats.

Close-ups of women screaming, doors being thrown shut. Mick hotwiring a car. Carmel turning only to find the creature behind her! A big DFA bursting home from his moonlighting job to the rescue.

But Mick, a Symantec employee, knows Hell and its prisoners. He feeds the intruder. Dramatic imploration to Carmel: "This is no monster-! Or if I'm wrong, he's one of those misunderstood monsters, like Frankenstein or the Hunchback of Notre Dame."

Equally dramatic response, desperate tears in beautiful blue eyes: "But, Mick! You teach computer courses, edit a magazine and wield power tools! Are you really sure about feline demons, too?"

Cute montage of the fangy one playing with a paper bag.

But is that an evil glint in the newly-Christened Jack's eye?

The Adopted... playing with cat toys soon!

No, that's not a picture of some chick who's just spotted Jack. NFG Issue 4 is shipping now- and shipping a whole hell of a lot faster, now that we dumped that original mailing house. I'm picking up experience on all aspects of the magazine business, wearing my Editor hat. There's more to it than just reading submissions, wiping my snooty nose with the sleeve of my black turtleneck, and choosing the cleverest banality with which to dismiss each poor hopeful's work.

There is talent coming out of the worldwide woodwork, I tell you. Some of the stories that Average Joes have sent us blow me away. I'm still fighting though the Best American Short Stories 2003 that I received for Christmas. Great statements and artworks? Maybe. But most of the selections in the book wouldn't know fun if it jumped up and bit 'em in the assonance. I'd much rather read, for instance "The Last Days of Kali Yuga" by this Australian fellow, Paul Haines. Backpackers lost in Katmandu's polluted haze of drugs, sex, mysticism, murder... discovering more about Hinduism, Christianity, and redemption, as if by accident, than I'd thought possible in such a fast-moving package. Unforgettable stuff- and this is by an ordinary guy, like you or me. Just something we received across the Internet one day. Just like the mad, fantastic fairy tale that's as funny as Shrek, the unexepected Russian mail-order brides who arrive in South Africa, and the heart-breaking story about a man whose marriage is in crisis. I'm glad to be a part of NFG if for no other reason than to offer as much exposure to these authors as I can.

Always a sucker for (1) a good story, (2) good tunes, and (3) weirdness, yer buddy Mick has taken a shine to the music of Angry Johnny and the Hellbillies.

Angry Johnny was a member of that unforgettable 1980's "Farm Rap" skater-punk abboratation, The Pajama Slave Dancers. Allow me to careen like a happy skater punk down memory lane, for those who missed the PSD sensation: between two albums (Blood, Sweat and Beers and Heavy Petting Zoo) this talented group of lads demonstrated what Weird Al Yankovic would have sounded like if he traded in his magic accordion for a Rap mic/Death Metal Guitar/Hank Williams hat/Dick Dale surfboard/kitchen sink. "Draggin' for Beer," "Homo Truck Drivin' Man," "Farm Rap," "Jesus Skates" and the heavy metal remake of "The Brady Bunch Theme"- fantastic stuff! My personal favorite is "Defreeze Walt Disney."

The one and only time that my stratocaster and I stepped up to an open mic, it was the Pajama Slave Dancers' "No Dick" which got me booed off stage. Philistines!

Or perhaps, my complete lack of talent.

Mick says: hunt the Internet for the original recordings and listen for yourself. These treasures were freely available until recently on the late, lamented .mp3.com

Enough ancient musical history. One of the members of the Pajama Slave Dancers is currently touring under a new name, fronting a new band. The humor, talent and catchiness are still there. The style's completely changed. In case the title hasn't given it away, Angry Johnny and the Hellbillies are all about Country... of a sort. Imagine The Offspring covering "Fire on the Mountain." Green Day visiting "The Banks of the Ohio." Give 'em a listen from http://www.getangry.com/playground/tunes.htm

Yep. All songs about tragedy and death. Every song tells a story, and some of them are surprisingly good. "Eight Men Died" is a somber remembrance of a mining tragedy in the tradition of "The Springhill Mine Disaster," shifting ground broken by "Big John." "The Indian Motorcycle Song" is an upbeat jangle, relating how a liquor-store robbin' beauty and her beast of a partner managed to outrun the law... but not the oncoming Peterbilt. Wham! Tragedy and Death again, with a foot tapping and tongue firmly in cheek.

The most striking song on their website may be "Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms." Angry, drunk and armed... ain't that what all Country is about? And Rap. And Rock. Whatever your preferred genre, Angry Johnny is sure to comic-book haunt you with this track. Give it a listen, then see if you won't be springboarded into purchasing Hankenstein.

Speaking of creepy monsters, in and out of Hank Williams suits... I have been trying to talk the little woman into seeing the "Dawn the Dead" remake with me. No success so far. Can't even get her out to "Shaun of the Dead" (tagline: A Romantic Comdedy. With Zombies.) Maybe if Romero had put Jennifer Lopez in it? Freddy Prinz Jr. would make a great zombie, too.

Finding yourself rambling on about Mr. Sarah Michele Gellar is always a good signal that it's time to shut up.

Peace

Y F M H

mick @ mickhalpin dot com